


Healthy Jealousy

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Belly Rubs, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, Windblade bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steeljaw strikes a deal with Strongarm while she works out some anger issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Strongarm had passed her Academy training with flying colours, excelled in every exercise and training regime the Targetmasters could conjure and made the Wreckers look like girl scouts compared to her. Yet she was just shown up by some arrogant, ego-inflated femme no-one had even heard of before, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

A shooting range was usually the only safe place for her to vent rage, but she made do with the forest for now. Her blaster pelted a round against a tree trunk and reduced it to smoking ash, just like all the others in the line next to it. Everything breakable ended up wearing Windblade's face, and then ended up very broken a nanoklick later.

No-one asked for Windblade's help. They didn't _need_ her. At least, anyone with half a processor didn't. That was the only reason Sideswipe was so intent on embarrassing himself, practically tripping over his peds at the sight of her. How desperate was he for attention that he'd happily kiss aft to the first bot that so much as glanced at him for more than a nanoklick?

Maybe punks were naturally attracted together, like a magnet to metal or a Corvicon to some poor bot's overpolished aft plate. She was starting to see Sides' own dumbaft face in the trees the more she stewed over his idiocy. 

"Honeymoon troubles, dear?"

Strongarm's blaster whirled around before the voice had a chance to finish, her frame twisting to face it. Steeljaw regarded her from a branch, somehow lying across it without snapping it in half with his weight. 

He wasn't making any moves for offense or defense, instead acting like he was watching a movie. It took more than that for Strongarm to drop her guard. "The frag do you want?" she asked, taking up a defensive stance and angling towards the nearest exit route.

"A stiff drink and a one way trip back to Cybertron," the wolf answered drolly, flicking his tail as it draped over the branch. "But if you're lacking in those, I'll take some decent conversation instead." An incisor glinted at her as he smirked.

"Then go find some other scum like you before I blast that tree to splinters with you still in it," Strongarm advised, diverting power to her blaster to give it enough of a warning glow.

Steeljaw seemed more offended at her weapon than being called scum. "It's always 'shoot first, questions later' with your type, isn't it?" He rolled his optics before dropping down, curling his tail behind him for balance. Strongarm inched closer, cautioning him to stay back. "Let me try this in your language, then. I'd like to call a..." He waved his servos idly, as if looking for the word floating in the air. "Well, let's call it a temporary truce. I don't have any friends nearby, Primus knows where your Autobots are, and I know better than to try and challenge you one-on-one. Therefore... I'm hardly a threat, and you don't have to wear out your tension cables keeping that thing held up." He nodded towards her blaster, holding his own servos behind his back. 

Strongarm narrowed her optics, only lowering her weapon to get a better read on him. "Regulations say I need to detain any and all Decepticons I find," she informed, checking her subspace for stasis cuffs. 

Steeljaw flicked an ear and cocked his helm sideways before barking a laugh. "Well, just as well I've being doing my research on the enemy. Doesn't regulation also say you're supposed to support any and all _Autobots_ that come a-knocking?"

Now it was confusion that caused her weapon to drop lower, and sudden realisation made her forget to keep it up. "Were you watching us today?" She mentally backtracked through the past few breems, trying to find any glimpse of him she might have missed.

Steeljaw grinned as if he was only one in on a joke against her. "Specifically, I was watching Zizza, actually hoping you'd get rid of her for me. She was annoying enough on the Alchemor, I couldn't imagine putting up with her running free..." He shook his helm, both as a shudder and an attempt to refocus himself. "And anyway, you lot were making so much noise, it was hard to ignore that new Autobot... Windblade, I think her name was?"

Suspicion and a strange relief started to take hold in Strongarm's processor. "Don't tell me she was a 'Con spy all along."

Steeljaw snorted at the assumption. "Primus was merciful enough to keep that ghastly femme confined to _your_ little goody-two-shoes club." He leaned back on his haunches, templing his digits with a thoughtful glint in his optics. "I thought I was finally going to witness a good fight for once, with how hard you were glaring at her the whole time."

"You'd be the same if you heard the bullslag she was spewing," Strongarm said, hoping she didn't sound too defensive about the whole mess. 

"About how she's the Earth's savior and Primus' chosen warrior?" Steeljaw smirked behind his digits. "She's only slightly more insufferable to listen to than Thunderhoof, I assure you."

Some witty throw-away remark dried on Strongarm's glossa as a realisation surfaced much later than it should have, most likely drowned by shock. "...What did you mean by 'honeymoon troubles'?" she asked, watching Steeljaw much more closely.

His smirk spread as he shrugged, twitching his tail as if trying to distract her. "Just that you and that crimson oaf make quite a pair. And it's a shame a certain someone had to come along and tear it all apart."

Her defense came just a few nanoklicks too late, and in a stern tone too strong to be convincing. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Steeljaw looked on the verge of giggling like a newspark with a toy. "Oh, I'm _sure_ you don't." He started to pace around her, neither closer nor farther away, forcing her to track him with her blaster (when she remembered she had one). "I suppose all the moans that keep me up at night are just giant metal birds screwing each other in the trees?"

She knew she shouldn't have let Sideswipe choose their hiding spots. Air blew hard out of her vents and her faceplate hurt from scowling as she tried to not melt Steeljaw's smug look with a plasma round. "So blackmail's your game?"

He looked amused at the suggestion. "Please, your friends have nothing to offer me in return for idle gossip." He waved a servo aside for an even more dismissive air. "But... I do have a proposition for you." He paused beside a different tree, leaning on the trunk with his servos crossed over. "If you'll listen, that is."

Strongarm narrowed her suspicion into a glare. "My audios are tuned."

Steeljaw bared his denta in a grin before starting his spiel. "Obviously you'll not be riding any red spikes for a while, and I can't imagine you're the type to frag your commanding officer. Which leaves you with just four other choices of relief." He held up one hand to count them off on his digits. "A Minicon, a Dinobot, a single sire with two parasites and severe ego problems, or..." His hand flattened against his chest. "Myself."

With all her attention focused on making the most disgusted expression she could muster, her servos fell to her sides and left her as defenseless as the mech. "You have got to be kidding me."

The role reversal was complete when Steeljaw made himself the confused one now. "Hardly. I'm sure you already know you're a..." He rolled his helm, as if embarrassed. "...desirable femme. Even for an Autobot. And with the Alchemor lacking in valves in the first place... I certainly wouldn't mind giving you a taste of Decepticon pleasure." As if his growl wasn't suggestive enough on its own, the heavy lids over his optics and the pointed denta all promised a very rough night with him.

Strongarm hid her curiosity well in a carefully constructed hiss. "How about you go frag yourself, and mind your own damn business?" 

Her counter offer got another bark of rich laughter from him, sending his tail wagging behind him. "The offer's always open, sweetspark." He leapt up into the tree that was against his back just a nanoklick before, winking down at her from the lowest branch. "Just howl for me."

Strongarm didn't bother trying to catch him or shoot him down- she'd had enough of trying to light the forest on fire. Her servo still burned from the heat of her gun's barrel as she started her trek towards the scrapyard. It was getting dark, and there were more dangerous things than wolves come nightfall.


	2. Chapter 2

Strongarm managed to hold out for three more days before curiosity and an incurable itch in her valve got the better of her. She didn't exactly know how to "howl", so she improvised by positioning herself high on a rock and firing a blast of plasma into the sky, watching it burst apart into blue fireworks against the backdrop of stars. If it ended up attracting any other Decepticons, she could practice some of the close-combat moves Drift's minicons taught her.

She'd probably end up using them on Steeljaw anyway, so it was a win-win situation for everyone except her screaming conscience.

Five klicks of waiting until the trees to her right rustled from more than just the breeze, and navy plating burst out bristling from the leaves. Not as subtle as Steeljaw usually liked to be, which hinted he was just as anxious for her summons as she was for his arrival. 

Even so, he quickly slinked up on his peds and gathered a cool composure around himself, radiating assurance up at her. "I was almost starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

His voice was gravel with arousal, optics dim and tail occasionally swiping over the front of his codpiece. Mechs were always most obvious when they were in the mood (Sideswipe especially notorious for almost letting the whole squad know of their trysts from his fat mouth), but it still made Strongarm self-conscious about the heat boiling behind her valve cover. She vaulted down from her perch, trying not to stare, trying to not remember the last time Sideswipe looked at her like that and without unspoken regrets ruining it.

"Femmes have needs, even in the middle of war." She kept her words clipped, tone icy, as if this was a business transaction for selling her life away. 

Steeljaw laughed, more hissing like a snake than barking. "Oh, don't I know?" His tail snapped behind him as he started to circle her, vents and olfactories opening wide. "I can smell it on you from here, dear." 

Strongarm swore she felt the tip of his tail grazing over her aft as he went behind her. She crossed her servos over, keeping narrowed optics aimed at him. "How is this gonna work, then?" It was better if she treated this like unpleasant business- ' _nothing personal, just need to let the enemy frag me_ '.

Steeljaw brought himself back to her front, incisors practically drooling in the midnight glow of the moon. Strongarm cleverly kept her mind off of stories about Earth wolves and the power the moon gave them. "I know you're still not... overly thrilled at the prospect of 'forbidden love'-" He twitched his claws in air quotes that only made her think of how sharp they were. If they left any marks in her armour, she reserved the right to tear his spark out. "So if it makes you feel better... we can do it from behind."

His grin would have made pirhanas envious. Strongarm found herself huffing a laugh at it.

"Funny. Humans actually call that 'doggy style'."

He'd offered to brace her against something more solid; a tree, a rock, even his own body, but Strongarm was adamant about being on the ground. Easier to escape that way, to kick out behind him if he tried anything typical to Decepticons. If he knew this or not, he didn't let her know from the snuffling moans around the back of her neck. 

"Last chance to walk away..." he teased, gliding his voice along her audios much like his tail did along her abdomen, feathery-light along her interface panel. Strongarm breathed in, the forest overpowered by Steeljaw's musk and the mingling scents of both their arousal. His codpiece was thudding away somewhere against her aft, daring her to let him in. Just like Sideswipe liked to do. 

Digits digging the earth, denta lodged into her lips, she let her panel slide aside. "Just shut up and frag me already."

With her words and port dripping desire, Steeljaw didn't tempt the odds of getting caught longer by waiting. His spike head was thinner than most mechs, sliding easily into her slit as the rest of his shaft followed more clumsily. Adjusted to a larger caliber, her valve smothered him in a loose grip of lube and nodes as a groan thrummed past her vocaliser. Steeljaw's was louder, ripping out in a growl before he remembered to stay quiet. His vents were shallow in her audios as he hilted, throbbing deep inside her and kneading against her sensors. Almost experimentally, Strongarm wiggled her hips back against his, feeling her walls rubbing against him left and right. The weight on top of her increased, claws spreading out beside her own rooted digits as his helm dropped on one of her shoulders.

"You feel warm..." He sounded sleepy, as if her valve was a nest of damp pillows. Some pride twinged under her waves of pleasure fading in and out, flinging a reply out of her strained vocaliser. 

"You feel small."

Steeljaw chuckled against her neck cables, pressing himself more against her aft. "If you're trying to ruin my overload, you'll have to try a lot harder than that."

Another retort had balled itself in Strongarm's throat, but was lost in a moan jolted out from the sudden slam of his hips- backwards, forwards, an instant burst of pleasure from her nodes.

"H-Holy slag..." Subconscious mutterings she could barely even hear spilled out, fuelled by the bursts of ecstasy erupting all over her. Steeljaw's tail curled around one of her legs as lube started to drip down its thigh, claws overlapping her hands as he kept her shivering frame grounded. The cool evening air prickled her sensors, shooting sensitivity to levels Steeljaw kept increasing with every thrust. In between moans he whimpered, yipped, glossa lolling in pants against her helm. It would have made her laugh if she wasn't overloading every other klick, undulating wildly around him as he radiated all the lost day's heat of the sun against her back. One of his servos vanished from her view of the ground, reappearing around her neck and tempting her helm up for a kiss. It was impossible to keep his glossa in his mouth anyway, more than happy to push itself deep into hers as he sucked down her moans. 

His thrusts slowed to short bursts, mouth detaching from hers as he finally climaxed, tail squeezing hard around her leg. All attempts at subtlety were ruined from his howl tearing through the night, practically bragging about his overload flooding the lube out of her tingling valve. She couldn't deny how nice his fluid felt pulsing inside her, glowing proof of how good the evening was for both of them. 

Steeljaw pulled out sloppily, still gasping and practically collapsed on top of her. Exhaustion laced his smugness. "I'd like to see the red one do better than that."

Even without their bitter separation, Strongarm knew that he couldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

Their illicit meetings were irregular and never lasted long until the next morning, but it gave them both something to look forward to. Strongarm would give Sideswipe the eternal cold shoulder by day and let Steeljaw bite into her neck at night, warming her with his vents. 

She'd done some research on Steeljaw's type in her downtime, on the lookout for any surprises he might be waiting to spring on her. She'd found out about just how wide his glossa was only after he'd spent breems slathering it all over her valve, lapping up her lube as she almost tore his ear plates off from the force of her grip, and she already had a fair idea of how agile his tail was, but there was one thing she could easily use to her advantage.

Curiosity had her climbing on top of him eventually, letting his tail curl around her as she straddled him. Seeing his expressions almost made up for the absence of his weight against her back and his heat radiating to every inch of her frame; lupine glossa hanging sideways out his mouth and almost licking the ground, razor denta glistening and eyes half-lidded as they stared up at her. His claws seemed to grow longer every night, scarring her hips to hold her steady on his spike. 

If Strongarm wanted to, she could have blown his helm off and he wouldn't even have noticed. She'd miss him, though. And like the Pit was she going crawling back to Sideswipe and his punk smug aft king-of-the-fragging-world smirk...

Her hands had lay flat on top of her thighs as she rode him, moving her hips in rhythm with Steeljaw's, but seeing him so absorbed in their pleasure she migrated her touch to where their bodies joined. Lifting herself up on her knees revealed the base of his spike, smooth shaft glistening with cyan lube as the rest of it pulsed deep in her valve. Two digits started tracing the top-half rim of her valve, pressing down on the buzzing anterior nodes and giving her an overload before she'd even fully pulled them around. 

Still shaking all over with a faint grin, Strongarm was eventually convinced to stop touching herself when her hazy processor started to clear again. She glided one hand onto the plating beneath her, feeling the thrum of engines and a bloom of warmth under her palm. Steeljaw only took notice when she stroked over the concave of his abdomen, one ear flicking as his optics snapped open and looked down at her servos.

"What are you doing down there?" With a joy-muffled voice the question was far more playful than suspicious, with the tail wound around her squeezing back around her own stomach plates.

Strongarm quirked an eyeridge with the same tease, still asserting her conscience that he wasn't rubbing off on her (well, one night he literally _was_ rubbing off, but that was a different matter altogether). "Just testing out something I read up on..." she answered, spreading her digits out before starting to make tiny circles on his stomach with her palm. 

Low whimpers started wavering from his mouth, spinal strut arching up towards her. "Ah... arooo..." His glossa panted rather than idly lolled now, optics closing in bliss. Strongarm rubbed harder, deeper into his plating and still riding his spike. One of his legs started twitching, churning the air as if he was trying to run on wind as his howling moans increased. 

"You like that?" Strongarm purred, enjoying having the upper servo for once and feeling his spike bulge up inside her. 

"Yes... yes, oh yes..." Steeljaw's helm tipped back on the ground, ears pinned down. "A little lower... if you don't mind-" Just nanoklicks after she obliged, his final howl shuddered out as overload spilled into her, left leg still wildly kicking at nothing and tail almost constricting around her. 

Strongarm steadied herself on him as he arched and convulsed beneath her. She'd read that belly rubs made dogs happy, but even she hadn't expected a response like that.

"You have the hands of an artist, my dear." Steeljaw's vocaliser trembled, every limb falling limp on the ground in the afterglow. 

Strongarm felt his climax waning, still reluctant to pull herself off him. "And you have the mouth of one." She lowered herself, hovering her faceplate above his and placing her lips lightly against his gaping ones. "A _con_ artist."

Steeljaw appreciated the wordplay, chuckling against her mouth and still smiling when she rolled off him in a sticky extraction. "Preservation instinct, sweetspark. It forces me to put myself first." He gathered the strength to push himself up, looking over at her with moonlight optics as she gathered her armour pieces. "You obviously know quite a few things about beast mechs, I'd have thought that would be one of them."

Strongarm clipped her chestplate armour on, buying herself some time to think out a response. She settled on something short and sweet, eager to wash off the evidence before anyone noticed the length of her absence. "It is now."

Steeljaw's ears lowered again, sideways now rather than flush against his helm. "You could always do worse..." He propped himself up on his side, watching her gather her dignity the same as every other tryst before. "With how you and the crimson casonova still haven't reconciled, I'd assume you _have_ done worse." 

Strongarm would rather have shared Optimus Prime's darkest secrets with Steeljaw than think about Sideswipe. She stayed silent, forcing her leg armour back into place, blocking him out until she was dressed.

"Does he know you're carrying?"

The question was throwaway, a casual remark that made Strongarm's energon freeze to brittle sludge in her fuel lines. "...What?"

Steeljaw tilted his helm almost curiously at her. "Carrying, dear. I'm afraid drool sometimes muffles my words." Seeing her disbelief hadn't budged, he nodded in the very rough direction of her chestplates. "Have a feel if you don't believe me."

Resisting the urge to pelt for the trees, Strongarm turned her back on him and, only afters several very deep breaths, placed her hand over the center of her spark. She wasn't stupid enough to expose her chamber in a Decepticon's presence, but if she was far along, she'd be able to feel...

A very faint pulse of light just in front of her spark core, on its way to phasing out of her chamber walls. Even with all the stress and bullslag both involving and not involving Sideswipe, she should have noticed right away. Any carrier would have known as soon as the newspark emerged...

"When... when did this happen?" she whispered, not intending an answer. Steeljaw's audios would not be held back though, ear plates swiveling towards her as his olfactories breathe deep.

"From the smell of you, about four weeks ago."

Time passed differently to humans, but she knew that fell into the window of Windblade's arrival, Sideswipe's afthole-ness coming full force, and Steeljaw offering himself to her. 

The last time she and Sides' interfaced had been at least three weeks ago. Even without knowing that, Steeljaw knew exactly what she was fearing.

"What I'm wondering is..." He prowled to his peds, positioning himself almost in front of her. "Is it sparklings in there, or _puppies_?"

Strongarm was still trying to process, refusing to accept it even as she felt the sparkbeat under her hand. She pulled it away as if her plating was boiling, only just noticing Steeljaw and his predator grin. She would have liked to crush it between her hands, anything to stop them from trembling, to forget the pulse still lingering on her digits.

She couldn't, though. She could only glare at him, with even more hate than she started with. She backed away, holding his gaze with heavy vents, until she could flip into her alt mode and leave the revelation behind with a huge cloud of dust.

From her side mirror, Steeljaw had the audacity to wave at her with tail wagging away. "I've had fun!" he called out. Strongarm was almost ready to admit that herself, but he just had to drop the baby bombshell and leave her choking on imaginary napalm and anger.


End file.
